Artist: Jean Grae & Quelle Chris f/ Hannibal Buress
Album:  Everything's Fine
Song:   OhSh
Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com, Jean Grae & Quelle Chris

[Intro: Hannibal Buress]
Oooooh shit!

[Quelle Chris]
Ooh, yeah
All-star big boy with the butter Doug Prishpeed
Tryin to snag a bag the size of Chris Christie
We come through snapping ya city's a wrap, big Leslie
We show up and show out like Eddie snapping on Reg-GIE
Chill, but chill don't make me bust up ya headpiece, seen
Ya style is ass, ya fans is G-string
Can't beat 'em then join 'em, your stance is weakling
The bass fuck up your +Face+ and it ain't The Weeknd
Fans beg him to leak the new heat like Trump staff
Daft deep in the bloodline like Bubba with shrimp
Traveling man that plans to go out with a +Gump+ past
Make your radio sign up for Tinder and swipe right
Cause I'm the stereotype like niggas who run fast
Got hate on your plate and loss in your lunchbag
Your whole album need saving, my feature's a must-have
Ya engineer be like r-rock on the clock cause he dumps tr-r-ash
Whoever said that it ain't been done don't know I did it
Been doin it since niggas fitted caps wasn't fitted
All that and a sack of snacks with the sammiches
Smoke it like Tatsu with the foot ninja vanishin
Big noggin, colorful paper my peoples is handlin
King of the rings, Sting with aluminum bats shit
And if they claim they do what I'm doin, they batshit
Like fuck you and err' nigga that you ever rapped with
I got money on me, getting money something reckless
That's an investment, them Vibe niggas no jive, now that's a collective
All in all, even my flaws is impressive
They call it complex, I call 'em ol' common bitches with collars on necks
It's calling vs. text, you heard the inflection, bredren, the message ain't mixed
You know what I meant, I said what I meant, I meant it

[Chorus]
Oh ("Shit!"), Oh ("Shit")
Oh ("SHIT"), it's for my dummies who front like they know ("Shit.")
My wise heads still grinding to grow ("SHEEEE-IT~!")
Oh ("Shit!"), Oh ("Shiiiit")
Oh ("Sheeeeee-it!"), Oh ("Shiiiiit")
It's for my honeys with money that own ("Shit")
My blowed niggas, get money and grow ("Shit!")
Oh

[Hannibal Buress]
I ain't got no fur coat, but I got a book bag full of Merlot
I'm lying, I ain't got no fucking Merlot
I drink whiskey, but I do want a fur coat
This shit is trippy, what?
Just in the bar, spitting... bars at the bar
Go to the bathroom, take a shit
Then I hop in a Uber car
Too bizarre, you know who you are
You should get hit by a moving car
Your stupid broads make me too exhausted
What's going on, are you retarded?
I'm not retarded, is that your father?
A tragic LIAR? Is that designer?
Is that a fire? Remember Mya?
I'm awkward with chopsticks, I'm like ahhh shit...

[Chorus]

[Jean Grae]
SHIT~! Fucking right, flame on
Phoenix +Krush+ ya whole +Groove+, Rae Dawn
Get 86'd, radon
First, +Gimme Ya Love+, Barry, Faison
It's the real Serenade swan song
Facepalm Scheherazade, but I killed the king on day one
Heritage, part Asian
Smack your merit badges off your body with a baseball bat, stay strong
Niggas act like I'm elusive and Medusa
Clueless as they never knew there was a man with Luther, stupid
Avon like slayage from door to door
But they ignore for more dumb shit, the gaul
From Charles de Gaulle to y'all's bar... beotch!
Large halls, small spaces like Fiats
Your balls and malt balls, same scale
My guffaws at your barrage of all-star false grails
It's loud and obnoxious, like there's noxious gases in the air
Collins, I'm Indiana on columns, cares, don't got 'em
Shit, what for nada? Nothing's a problem
Unless your face is not in gutter, you're trash - SHIT.

[Chorus]

[Outro: Hannibal Buress]
Oooooh shit! Hahahaha!

("Everything's fine, doctor? Everything FINE, DOCTOR... DOCTOR?")